


Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Moe

by KingCrowleysLittlePet_666



Series: The Walking Dead Oneshots/Stories [12]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blood, Death, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Gore, Kidnapping, Kissing, Language, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:12:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingCrowleysLittlePet_666/pseuds/KingCrowleysLittlePet_666
Summary: First, it started with the nursery rhyme and it all ended with you. You were destined to get your head smashed in the Lucille, but when Carl puts himself in front of you, everything changes. After the incident, all you had left was Carl and your mother, Maggie. However, that wasn't the last that you saw of Negan and his men. What happens when Carl finally pushes his buttons?Request: Hi there, can I request a Carl Grimes x Reader Imagine where during the line up Negan picks the reader and Glenn,Maggie(her parents),and Carl try and stop him and all she can do is think about all the good times she's had them with and he ends up not killing her but during one of his visits to Alexandria he kidnaps her?





	1. Tragedy

_Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Moe_

Tears stained your cheeks and the sound of boots against the dirt ground filled your ears, getting closer for several seconds before moving away. That process repeated again and again, making your heart leap into your throat every time that the steps approached. Negan held the smirk on his face as he spoke the cursed nursery rhyme to your family, who knelt next to you, terrified looks and tears painted on each of their faces. The only ones that weren’t crying were Carl - who sat right next to you, keeping his eye on you the entire time - and Daryl - bloody and wrapped in a blanket.

_ Catch a tiger by the toe _

You couldn’t help but keep your eyes attached on Maggie and Glenn, your parents. You could tell that your mother was in pain and stressing out, sweat glistening on her face, and your father was keeping his eyes on you and Maggie. Your fists were clenched on your knees and your hands, arms, and legs were shaking violently. Glenn tried to give you a reassuring look, but you couldn’t seem to shake the fear from your heart. What made you jump was the hand that grabbed yours. Glancing up, you saw Carl staring into your eyes. His thumb gently ran across your knuckles in a calming manner. Your muscles began to relax. 

_ If he hollers let him go _

The relationship between you and Carl was strong. What started off as a friendship in the earlier years of the apocalypse transformed into a romantic relationship that would normally be described in young adult novels. It was adorable at times and glamorous at others. Rick, Michonne, Glenn, and Maggie all played supporting roles in the relationship. They even teamed up on the two of you when they felt like it was time to give you and Carl ‘the talk’ despite the fact that neither of you had sex yet but had the general knowledge. It was basically a ‘don’t be stupid’ type of talk. Both of you abided by that rule, keeping your relationship at a PG-13 rating at most - especially when it came to heated make-out sessions in the middle of the night. 

_ My mother told me to pick _

Glenn and Maggie loved and trusted Carl - you knew that if they felt otherwise, then they would not approve of the two of you in the slightest - and it seemed like they got along better than you could have ever imagined. Sometimes they got along a little too well, in your own opinion. The one trait that your parents and Carl irritably shared was being protective. Sure, with Carl it was slightly cute, but it could get annoying when he would make you stay behind him on supplies runs because it could be ‘too dangerous’. You loved that he cared about you, but it got a little excessive at times. Fortunately, your dad or mom praised him every single time you came back with no marks on you whatsoever. You knew that Carl felt proud whenever he got that praise and you knew that, deep down, Maggie and Glenn were thankful that you chose to be with Carl. 

_ The very best one _

You felt bile begin to rise in your stomach as Negan neared the end of the rhyme. You held onto Carl’s hand tighter, arms shaking violently from fear. Carl wanted to crawl over to you, to bring you into his lap and hold onto you tightly, but he knew that if he did, then Negan might hurt you. He didn’t want to risk it. He just continued to run his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. 

You watched Negan’s moves closely, studied them, trying to figure out what was going to happen, who was going to die, but your mind was a blur of worry and fear. Sobs failed to escape your throat and you rocked back and forth on your knees in an attempt to calm yourself. So far, however, nothing seemed to be working. You kept your eyes on the bat - that damned bat named Lucille - and watched as Negan pointed with each word. 

_ And _

Sasha.

_ You  _

Aaron. 

_ Are _

Carl. 

_ It _

It was then that your heart stopped. Staring down the length of the bat, all you could see was your life flashing before your eyes. Every single time that you were with your parents, with Carl, with the group, in good moments and bad, in life and death situations. Every smile appeared, every laugh, every chuckle, every time that you knew your eyes were gleaming with joy. All of that would disappeared with one swing. Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but let out a cry. From the corner of your eye, you could see your mom shaking and wailing loudly, rocking back and forth, not enough strength in her to even speak, and your father staring at the situation wide eyed, anger boiling in his eyes. 

The smirk was present on Negan’s face as he eyed your trembling body up and down. He pulled the bat away from your face and held it tightly with both of his hands, clad in leather gloves. 

“ Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father and then we'll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doing that.” Negan said, a slight growl coming out with his last words. 

Carl’s eye widened watching as Negan lifted the bat above his head. You closed your eyes, preparing for the pain. However, it never came. What came was a shout from directly in front of you. 

“Don’t touch her!” Carl shouted, right arm raising to block anything that Negan could have thrown at you. 

Your eyes shot open and you studied Carl’s stance. Carl was kneeling in front of you, left arm blocking you from anyone on the left. Negan stopped mid-swing and backed up, look of disbelief on his features. 

“Well lookie here,” Negan said. “It seems like the little serial killer has some big fucking balls on him.” Negan leaned back, slowly developing a smirk on his lips. “Did you not hear a fucking word that I just fucking said? I never knew that you were that fucking stupid, kid.” Negan knelt down on one knee in front of Carl. Your eyes were glued on Negan the entire time. “What is  _ she _ worth to you?” He pointed at you using Lucille. 

He glanced at you, causing you to look away in fear. Carl didn’t respond. However, it didn’t take long for Negan to figure it out. He raised his brows and smirked, looking at Carl. He leaned closer to him. His voice was low and gravelly. 

“You’re fuckin her, aren’t ya? Huh? Being a big man and getting some pussy?” 

The fire grew in Carl’s eyes. He growled, baring teeth. “Don’t talk about her like that.” He said. 

Negan smiled in a satisfactory way. “So you  _ are _ fucking her.” He said. “That’s just absolutely fucking adorable” Negan stood up and began to pace again. You pushed your body into Carl’s back. “Now, I can’t possibly beat the shit out of her. I have to keep him happy. How else am I going to get on his fucking good side?” He chuckled deeply. “I guess I’ll just have to choose someone else.” He shrugged. 

Your eyes widened. Carl turned towards you and brought you into a hug, kissing your forehead. You buried your face deep within his neck and whimpered. 

Negan hummed and scanned his eyes over everyone else. Once he spotted the ginger, a smile came to his face as he pointed to Abraham with the bat. “You.” He said. 

You glanced up quickly. You shook your head, glancing at the sight in disbelief. “No,” You breathed. 

Carl glanced down at you, pressing a hand to the side of your cheek, rubbing the tears away with his thumb. Carl pressed his forehead to yours. “Look at me. Look at me.” 

Your red eyes shifted to Carl’s dark one. He reached up, cupping your face into his hands gently, sending a shiver down the course of your spine, eyes closing as you relaxed into his touch. The sound of a bat coming in contact with, you assumed was, Abraham’s head sent white noise soaring through your ears. You cringed and grabbed onto your head, burying your face into Carl’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you. 

“Look at him, taking it like a champ!” Negan said, cheer in his voice. 

Panting could be heard vividly through the white noise. “Suck. My. Nuts.” Abraham breathed heavily. 

The rest was blocked out by your thoughts, by your sobs, by the steady heart rate of the one holding you. That was something that you tried to keep your mind on: Carl’s heartbeat. It sounded so calm and collected considering the situation, as if the two of you were back at Alexandria, outside on the porch, snuggled up against one another. Moments like those were always soothing and addictive and you could only wish that you were back in the protective gates and holding onto Carl tightly and lovingly. 

Relaxation flooded you until the sight of blood filled your peripheral vision. Your eyes widened as you shot out of Carl’s hold. Your hearing began to come back as you stared at the tip of Lucille, barbed wires covered with blood, flesh, and hair. Eyes widened, you felt the bile rise in your throat. You covered your mouth and looked away. Carl’s attention turned to the bat. 

“Look at that fucking beauty.” Negan growled out, smirking. 

Carl glanced up at Negan, narrowing his eyes. Negan chuckled and lowered the bat. He moved down the line to Rosita who was bent over, arms shaking. Abraham’s death had visibly broken her. She seemed like the weakest in the group at that very moment. Negan made note of it as well. He pushed the bat near her face. 

“Look at her,” He said. 

Rosita didn’t move. 

“Look at my fucking beautiful, dirty girl.”

Again, Rosita didn’t move, eyes casted down to the ground. 

Negan clenched onto the end of the bat, eyes glaring and filled with rage. “Take a fucking look!” 

You never saw it coming. Daryl, despite being bloody, pale, and tired, stood up, blanket cascading off of his body, and threw a punch into Negan’s face. You turned around, eyes widening as you watched the scene before you. Daryl was tackled to the ground, his own crossbow pointed at his head by the man with the scarred face. 

Negan pressed a thumb to his lip, seeing the single drop of blood that painted his digit. He growled at Daryl and you saw his jaw clench. Negan let out an angered laugh. 

“Someone  _ else _ has some major fucking balls on them.” He shouted. 

“Do you want me to kill him?” You heard the scarred man growl.

“No, no, take him back in fucking line.” Negan said and you let out a small, shaky breath of relief. 

The man pulled Daryl back to the lineup, crossbow still pointed to his head. He pushed Daryl onto the ground, placing his knee into his back. Daryl groaned. 

“Well, first the fucking kid and now fucking  _ you _ !?’ Negan pointed at Daryl. “I already told you fuckers that I will shut that fucking shit down. Now, what kind of man would I be if I couldn’t follow up on my fucking threats?” 

Negan chuckled and you began to shake. You grabbed onto the sleeve of Carl’s shirt. Carl glanced at you and pulled you close. Keeping your eyes closely on Negan, you leaned against Carl’s chest, the speed of his heart increasing. You took your hand and pressed it against his chest, rubbing it in small circles. 

Negan shifted from moving forward to backing up, slowly. He hummed and nodded. “Back to it, then.” He said, grabbed the end of the bat with both hands. He took it and turned, swinging at his next victim: Glenn. 

Your eyes widened as you let out a scream. You sobbed and tried to push past Carl to stop him, but his hold on you only tightened. He shook his head. 

“No,” He whispered into your ear. “Stay, (Y/N).” 

You shook your head and sobbed. “No,” Your cry was weak and your entire body was shaking. “Dad…” 

Negan never let up on his swings. He only increased their power. Glenn’s face was bloody and broken, skin ripped and bone showing. The vomit had returned to your throat. Carl grabbed your face and turned it away from the scene. 

“Look at me, look at me,” He said quietly, repeatedly. 

You couldn’t even look into his eye. Your body shook like an earthquake, eyes eventually closing. You leaned your head against his chest and sobbed, each time Lucille came down on his head causing you to jump. 

It took longer than you wanted. Longer than you hoped. Your chest hurt, your heartstrings clenching with pain, lungs tightening from the lack of air as you hyperventilate. You felt yourself getting weaker, hands unclenching from Carl’s shirt. Negan smirked as he moved away from Glenn’s lifeless form. Everything was a blur, vision mixed with tears and sweat, and you couldn’t hear a damned thing. The white noise was back and started to nestle itself near your eardrum. Carl was gently running his fingers through your hair. 

Negan moved towards Rick, squatting down in front of him. Blood covered the right side of Rick’s face in one, long streak. His blue eyes were wide and bright, filled with nothing but fear, sorrow, and desire to kill the son of a bitch that was right in front of him. You couldn’t hear anything that they said, though. Carl’s heartbeat and the static drove everything away. 

The last thing you saw was Negan dragging Rick into the RV he had once emerged from. The motor started and the vehicle drove away. You collapsed into Carl’s arms, vision fading and, eventually, turning black. 

__  
  
  


Carl rubbed your cheeks lightly with his index and middle fingers. “(Y/N),” He spoke quietly. “(Y/N), please open your eyes.” 

As you opened your eyes, your vision started to come back to you. You jolted up and Carl shushed you. You looked around and ran your hand down your face. When had the world started to brighten up? How long had you been out? Where...where was Rick? Your eyes were attached to Carl’s, blinking away the tears that started to form in your eyes. Carl caressed your cheeks. 

“Keep your eyes on me, okay?” He whispered. 

You nodded, swallowing deeply, feeling intimidated by the presence of the Saviors that surrounded you. For ten minutes, you kept your gaze on Carl, eyes wide, red, tired, filled with fear, sorrow, tears, horror, and everything in between. It wasn’t long before the sound of tires on the dirt filled your ears. You instinctively turned your head and watched as the RV was parked in the same position that it had been before Negan kidnapped Rick. Carl grasped your jaw gingerly and turned your attention to him. 

“Look at me, look at me.” He has repeated it softly as much as he had before. 

You couldn’t help but nod. When the door opened, however, you turned and watched Rick being thrown out of the door, Negan soon following. He grabbed the back of Rick’s jacket and dragged him towards the center of the blocked off space. He threw him to the ground. Everyone, even Carl, had his eyes on his father. Negan smirked, looking down at Rick. He looked so vulnerable and weak - nothing like the man you had once seen in the past. 

“Here we are.” Negan nodded. “Let me ask you something Rick,” He began, walking away from him, keeping Lucille at his side. “Do you even know what that little trip was about?” 

Silence. Rick was on his knees again, rocking back and forth, hatchet in his hand. He glanced at the rest of the members of his group, the rest of his family, and then looked down in shame. Carl turned back to you, turning your attention to him once again. 

“Speak when you’re spoken to.” Negan demanded, voice deep. 

Rick glanced up at Negan, sweat covering his brow and eyes red from tears. “Okay, okay.” 

“That trip was about the way you looked at me,” Negan replied, stepping closer to Rick. “I wanted that to change. I wanted you to understand. But, you’re still looking at me the same fucking way.” He shook his head. “Like I took a shit in your scrambled eggs and that’s not gonna work.” He squatted down beside Rick. “Now…” He smirked. “Do I give you another chance?” 

Rick rocked back and forth on his knees, breathing heavily. “Yeah.” He said quietly. “Yes.” 

Negan patted Rick on the back and stood, beginning to pace around once again. “Alright. Okay. Now, here it is, the grand prize game. The game that determines whether or not this shit day of yours will turn into everyone else’s last shit day,  _ or _ if it will just be another shit day.” Negan swayed slightly before he gestured with his finger. “Get some guns to the backs of their heads.” 

You didn’t even feel the cold barrel of the handgun pointed at you, but the weight of its presence was all too real. Your eyes widened and you felt a sob soar through you. 

“Alright, good. Now, level it with their noses, because if you have to shoot,” Negan used his hands to mime an explosion in front of his face. He chuckled. “Man, will it be messy.” 

Carl held you close, rubbing your arms and making sure that you kept your eyes on him the entire time. The familiar sound of his voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear relaxed you. 

“Kid,” Negan turned to you and Carl. 

Carl stiffened in your touch and turned, looking at Negan. You did as well, whimpering. Negan was leaning to the side, smirk written on his face. Using one finger, he gestured Carl over to him. Your eyes widened and you shook your head. 

“It’s not up for debate, sweetheart.” Negan shook his head. He pointed to the spot right in front of him. “Here...now.” 

Carl swallowed and hesitantly stood up. You reached out for him, shaking your head. 

“N-No.” You whispered, but Carl ignored you and walked over to Negan. “Please.” 

“You better stay quiet or I’ll make sure he watches your brains get blown out.” Negan pointed at you with Lucille. 

You were on your hands and knees, arms shaking and eyes beginning to water. The gun that the Savior behind you was holding was pressed closer to your head until you could feel the cold temperature radiating off the metal. Carl stood in front of Negan, his back straight and eyes connected with Negan’s. 

“Are you a southpaw?” Negan asked, head cocked to the side and smirk still on his face. 

Carl furrowed his brows. “A what?” 

“You a lefty?” 

“No.” He narrowed his eyes. 

Negan chuckled. “Good.” 

Negan took Carl’s arm and pulled out his own belt. He began to wrap it around his upper arm tightly. Carl didn’t move. 

“Hurt?” 

Carl shook his head. “No.” 

“Should.” Negan nodded, continuing to wrap it around. “Supposed to.” 

Once finished, he pulled away. “Alright, get on the floor, right next to Daddy.” He took Carl’s hat and threw it at you. You immediately caught it instinctively. “Spread those wings.” 

You began to pant, fear boiling inside of your eyes. The grip you had on the hat tightened and your teeth clenched, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“Let him go, let him go, let him go,” you mouthed to yourself as Negan pushed Carl onto the ground. 

Negan stood up. At that moment, you hated him. You hated him when you first saw him come out of that RV, but you wanted him dead right then and there. The image of beating him in with his own baseball bat filled your mind, sending rage running through your veins. 

“Simon,” Negan spoke to the disgusting moustached man. “Ya got a pen?” 

Simon furrowed his brows before he smirked. “Yeah, I think I do.” He said as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a marker and tossing it to Negan, who caught it with one hand. 

He opened the pen up with his teeth, the cap resting in his mouth. With a grunt, he lowered himself onto one knee. “Sorry, kid.” He said. “It’s gonna feel as cold as a warlock’s ballsack. Like a ballsack right above you and just...drag it across your forearm.” He smirked and drew a black line across his freckles forearm. “Give you some leverage.” 

Rick’s body was shaking. “Please,” he begged. “Please don’t.”

Negan capped the pen and stared at Rick with an amused smirk. “Me?” He scoffed. “I’m not doing anything.” He stood and bit his lip. “Rick, I want you to take that axe of yours...and cut your boy’s arm off.” 

“No, no, please.” You sobbed, moving an inch, reaching out for Carl with eyes wide, red, and filled with tears. 

Negan sighed and pressed his index and middle finger against the bridge of his nose. “Kill the girl,” he sighed, waving his hand. 

Carl’s eye widened as the Savior that held the gun at your head pulled you against him and placed the gun at your temple. He shook his head. “She’ll stop! Please don’t! Cut off my arm, Dad, just do it!” 

Negan chuckled. “What is with all the defiance today? It’s fucking ridiculous!” He smiled. “Simon, ya got a handkerchief?” 

Simon hummed and nodded. He pulled a red plaid handkerchief out of the back pocket of his jeans. He walked over to Negan and handed it to him. Negan took the piece of cloth and balled it up tightly in his hand, moving over to you. Simon moved back to his original space. Negan squatted in front of you. 

“Open up,” Negan instructed. 

You furrowed your brows, whimpering as the gun pressed deeper into your temple. Negan rolled his eyes and grabbed your jaw, forcing it open and shoving the handkerchief inside of your mouth. You gagged and tried to force it out, but it was all to no avail. The cloth was going to be stuck inside your mouth until Negan was satisfied and took it out. Negan stood back up and nodded. 

“Keep her just like that,” he pointed to the man holding you, who replied with a ‘yes sir’. 

Negan walked back over to Rick. “Now, if there aren’t going to be anymore fucking interruptions…” Pause. “I need you to pick up that axe and cut off your boy’s arm. Either that, or everyone fucking dies. The people here die, Carl dies, the people back home will die, and, eventually, you will die. I might keep you around for a couple of years, let you stew in it before I finally kill you.  _ Now _ ...I understand that everyone else around here understands what I am talking about. But...I don’t think  _ you _ understand me Rick.” 

Rick stared at the line of black. “I-It can be me.” He said. “It can be me….you...can….take me with you.” 

Negan shook his head. “No.” He said. “This is the only way.” 

You struggled lightly in the hold of the man, feeling it tighten. 

“Rick, pick up the axe.” Negan rubbed his leathered fingers down his stubble. “Making no decision is a  _ big _ fucking decision, Rick. Do you want to see all these people fucking die? All that goddamn mess?” Another pause. “Do I have to fucking count?” Another long, antagonizing pause. “Alright, Rick. You fucking win. I’m fucking counting!” Your eyes widened. “Three!” 

Rick began to sob. “Please.” He begged. ‘Let it be me.” 

“Two!” Negan’s shout sparked goosebumps on your arms and legs. 

“Please, don’t do-” 

You never expected Negan to smack Rick across the face. He grabbed him by his jaw and stared deeply into his eyes with anger. “This is it.” He said, turning Rick’s head down to the axe. “One!” Negan shouted. 

Rick grasped the axe lightly. Carl shook his head. ‘Dad, just do it.” He breathed and you wanted to object. 

You sobbed, spit dribbling out of your gagged mouth as you closed your eyes, looking away. Rick continued to rock as he laid his hand on Carl’s shakily. He lifted the axe above his head, letting out a loud wail. Just as he was about to drop his arm, Negan let out a small chuckle. 

“Rick, Rick…” His voice was somehow gentle and kind. 

Rick immediately stopped and looked at him, lowering his arm and dropping the axe. 

Negan squatted next to the broken man. The broken leader. “Everything you have belongs to me.” He said tenderly. “You belong to me, they belong to me, and everything you own belongs to me. Understand?” 

Rick nodded vigorously. Negan, however, wasn’t accepting any of it. He grabbed Rick by the face and glared at him, making their eyes equal to one another. 

“Speak when you’re spoken to!” He shouted. “You  _ belong _ to me. You  _ provide _ for me!” 

“...Belong to you…” Rick mumbled. 

“Right!?” 

“...right…” 

Negan smirked, removing his hand from Rick’s face and standing up. He lifted his arms. “We did it. All of us. Especially those dead fuckers right there. Fuck, they get the spirit award for damn sure. Today has been a productive damn day, don’t you think? And...for your sake, I hope you all understand.” A smirk fell onto his face. “Whatever you had going for you, that is over now.” Negan chuckled some more as he walked over to you. “You done being loud?” He asked. You gave a reluctant nod. “Good girl.” He said and took the handkerchief out of your mouth. You choked back a sob. 

Negan stood up, studying the faces of everyone around. They were shattered and filled with anguish. The smirk on his face was easy to see through. This was what fueled him - heartbreak. He stopped in front of Daryl. 

“Dwight, load him up.” 

Your eyes widened and a whimper escaped from your lips. From your restricted spot, you watched as Dwight, the scarred man, tossed Daryl into the back of one of the many cars that surrounded you. Negan walked back to Rick. 

“He’s got some balls.’ He commented. “Not like some bitch I know. I like him. He’s mine now. Now, do you wanna try saying anything else? ‘Not today, not tomorrow’?” He laughed. “Maybe I’ll cut up pieces of….what’s his name?” He looked at Simon. 

Simon glanced towards the car. “Daryl.” He replied. 

“Daryl. Sounds about right.” Negan smiled. “Well, I might just have to cut little, tiny pieces off of Daryl and leave them on your doorstep,” his attention was back on Rick. “Or, I could bring him to you and have you cut off piece of him for me.” 

Rick’s arms shook violently as Negan stood up. 

“Welcome to a brand new beginning you sorry fucks!” He shouted, smiling. “I’m...gonna go ahead and give you a truck to carry all the marvelous shit that you collect for me. I’ll be back in one week to collect my shit. Until then, ta-ta.” Negan said as he turned towards the large vehicles, vanishing. 

The Saviors slowly pulled away from everyone in the group. Everything seemed to go agonizingly slow. The Savior pulled away from you, growling deeply into your ear before he did. The men and women that surrounded you wandered in different directions to their designated vehicles, driving off one after the other, leaving the group in a cloud of dust. You held onto your stomach and held back the vomit that threatened to creep up into your throat. 

Maggie slowly stood, her sobs no longer quiet and the tears from her eyes flowing like a river. You glanced up at her and whimpered, bottom lip quivering and heart clenching from the pain you saw in her expression. 

“Mama,” You breathed and sobbed, standing up. You sauntered over to her, feet scraping against the dirt and rocks. 

Rick glanced up at Maggie, eyes still filled with tears, red and irritated. “Maggie, you need to sit down.” He breathed. 

Maggie shook her head. ‘No,” she breathed. 

You walked over to your mother, wrapping your arms around her, sobbing into her shoulder. She placed one arm around you while the other one was placed gently over her stomach. Maggie looked more pale than she had when you left Alexandria. 

“We have to get you to Hilltop.” Rick said, standing and walking over to the two of you. 

Maggie shook her head. “You need to go back. We need to get ready.” 

“For what?”

“To fight.” 

Rick shook his head. “Maggie, they have Daryl. They have an entire army. We would die, all of us.” 

“Go home. Take everyone with you. I can go there on my own. You...You guys were here because of me.” 

“We still are.” Rick said. 

“Go back to Alexandria. I can make it to the Hilltop by myself.” 

“You can barely stand.” 

“I can make it.” She swallowed. “I can’t have you out here anymore.” 

“Mom, mom, please…” You whispered into her ear. “Please let us take you to Hilltop.” 

“Maggie, we’re not leaving you alone.” Michonne intervened. 

“Go back to Alexandria.” She told everyone. 

Sasha stood up. She walked over to Maggie and gently grasped onto her arm. “I’ll take you up there.” She said. Maggie opened her mouth and turned to Sasha to try and object, but Sasha shook her head. “I’m not giving you a choice.” 

You rubbed your mother’s back as she nodded. “I’m going with you.” You told her. 

“No, you’re going back to Alexandria with Rick.” Maggie said. 

“No, I’m not.”

“This isn’t up for discussion, (Y/N).” 

“But...but mom…” 

“You will do as I say, (Y/N).” Maggie cupped your cheek and pressed a gentle, weak kiss to your forehead. “Do you understand me?’ Your bottom lip wobbled and you gave her a nod in understanding. She then turned to Sasha. “I’m taking him with me.” 

With your help, you and your mother knelt down beside your father’s broken, beaten, and lifeless body. Maggie pressed her hands to his back for leverage and began to sob. You buried your face into her neck to hide your tears. Suddenly, you could feel your mother pulling on his jacket. You frowned. 

“Mom?” You breathed. 

“I have to do this.” She said. 

Everyone was surrounding you. Aaron was rubbing your mother’s shoulder comfortingly. “We have to help you.” He said. 

“No...I-I….” Maggie sobbed out. 

Rick knelt next to Aaron. “P-Please,” he begged. “Let us help you. He was our-fa-” He swallowed. “He was our family too.” 

Maggie slowly let her anemic grip on her husband release, hands shaking as she pulled away. You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Glancing behind you, you looked at Carl, who had a look of remorse swimming around in his eye. In your chest, you could feel the sobs coming back as you stood up quickly and wrapped your arms around Carl tightly. Maggie slowly stood and embraced the both of you. You placed one hand on Carl’s back and the other on Maggie’s until she pulled away. When she did, you couldn’t help but feel the selfish anger boiling inside of you as you pushed Carl away from you.

“You’re a fucking idiot!” You shouted at him. “You could’ve gotten killed!” 

Everyone’s heads snapped to the two of you. Carl looked at you with a mixture of emotions. Hell, the two of you had no idea what emotions were running through you at that very moment. There was anger, sorrow, pity, fear. Carl shook his head. 

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. 

“Let me fucking speak.” You growled between clenched teeth, pressing your hands to his chest and shoving him away again. “Do you have any idea what it would be like without you!? What he could have done to you!?” 

“He was going to kill you, (Y/N)!” 

“I would rather die than spend the rest of my life miserable and without you!” 

Silence filled the area around them. You looked down and shook your head, sniffling. You pulled him close to you and buried your face into his chest, sobbing. Your arms trembled.

“Please,” You begged as he embraced you. “Never do anything like that again.” 

“(Y/N)-” 

“Promise me, you idiot.” You looked up at him, eyes filled with tears and a bright red color. 

Carl opened his mouth, trying to search for something that he wanted to say. He knew that it was impossible to promise something like that when he had the protective instincts, and you knew just as much. However, you still wanted to hear it. To hear that he was going to stay with you forever. That you were not going to separate at all. 

Carl sighed. “I promise.” He said. 

You swallowed heavily and leaned against his chest, listening to the sound of his resting heart rate. Carl pulled you closer to him and glanced at Rick. Everyone turned their attention to the corpses. Eugene, Rosita, and Sasha picked up Abraham’s body while the remaining individuals helped with Glenn. Your mother, you, and Carl didn’t help. Maggie was too busy pacing around, running her hands down her face, and trying to hold in the sobs that she desperately wanted to let out, and you and Carl embraced. He ran his fingers through your hair, swaying the two of you back and forth. 

Soon, everyone made their way to two seperate vehicles. Maggie had given you a hug and kissed your head before going with Sasha to the Hilltop while the rest of the group packed into the RV, blood coating the side of it. Carl sat down in a seat and he pulled you against him, rubbing your back soothingly. 

The way back to Alexandria was bumpy and rough. You had your head against his shoulder. He rubbed your upper thigh and back. Rosita sat across from the two of you, glancing every now and then at you. Her jaw clenched. It wasn’t jealousy, you knew. It was anger. She was angry that you had Carl. That you were the one couple that made it out. The anger had vanished from your mind a long time ago and you just ignored her, bathing in Carl’s warmth and scent, practically melting into his arms.

__  
  
  
  


You didn’t talk much in the next three days. There were several instances where Carl caught you staring off into space, the only way that he would be able to pull you out of your deep thought being his fingers brushing against your cheek or running through your hair. The two of you barely talked, only embraced and cuddled. Days were filled with nothing but silence and nights were sleepless. You refused to sleep by yourself and it always ended with you falling asleep on top of Carl’s chest on the couch in the living room. 

The fourth day came and you still hadn’t talked to anyone in Alexandria aside from the simple ‘yes sir’ and ‘yes ma’am’ or ‘no sir’ and ‘no ma’am’ to questions that people would ask you. It was turning into later afternoon, Alexandria silently stressing over the upcoming visit from Negan within the next three days or so. Carl and you were out on the porch swing that was connected to the Grimes’ house. The chair moved back and forth in an alleviating manner. You were slumped into the seat, hands in your lap, legs crossed, and head leaning against Carl’s shoulder. He had his left arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close. The other hand rested on yours. 

“You alright?” He asked, his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

You gave him a hesitant nod. 

Carl sighed. 

“I wish you’d talk to me.” He said, nudging his nose under yours. “I miss your voice.” 

A blush spread across your cheeks - you just couldn’t help it. Carl made your heart skip a beat. You stared into his beautiful eyes that reflected gorgeously in the sun’s rays. You let out a heavy breath and closed your eyes. 

“I miss him.” You whispered. 

“I know, (Y/N).” Carl said. “I know.” 

“And I haven’t been able to go see mom.” 

“I know.” 

“I miss them both.” 

“I know.” His voice got quieter. 

“I still have you though.” 

Carl smiled lightly. “And I still got you.” 

Opening your eyes, a smile appeared on your lips. You reached up and caressed his cheek, bringing your lips together gingerly. The kiss was sweet and romantic. You pulled away. 

“Do you realize how much of an ass you were?” You asked and raised your brows. 

“An ass about what?”

“About putting yourself in front of the bat for me.” 

Carl sighed, expression immediately changing. “Are you serious, (Y/N)? Do you  _ want _ to argue about this?”

“I don’t wanna argue.” You shook your head and ran your finger against the collar of his shirt. “I just want you to say that you were wrong.” 

“I wasn’t wrong.” He said with a slight growl. “I would have done anything to keep you with me.” He placed his hands firmly on your waist. 

“And I would have done anything to keep you here.” 

“Now, what you did was stupid. (Y/N), you had a gun pointed at your head. I was so lucky when Negan didn’t have him shoot you.” 

“I already lost my father, I couldn’t lose you too.” You whispered and looked down. “I...I would’ve died.” 

Carl sighed and kissed his forehead. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now. We’re together and we’re not going anywhere.” He pulled you close to him and, again, the rhythmical beat filled your ears. He knew that you loved that sound and it made your body immediately relax. 

You sighed and kissed his chest. “Thank you.” You said. 

Carl chuckled, chest rumbling. “Don’t thank me. I do it because I care.” He said, running his fingers through your hair in a constant fashion. 

Merely minutes passed and you heard the heavy sounds of knocks - three to be exact -  filling the community of Alexandria. You frowned and slowly sat up. You glanced at Carl. 

“What was that?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 

Carl shook his head, confusion decorating his face. “I don’t know.” He said. “It’ll be fine.” 

“You don’t think we should check it out?” 

“If you want to, we can.” He said. “Judith’s upstairs, sleeping. She should be alright.” 

You nodded. ‘Yeah, let’s go see.”

Both of you stood up and, walking side by side, you made your way towards the entrance of Alexandria. You furrowed your brows, slowing down as the gate came into sight. When you saw the massive trucks and the bat from afar, you stopped, eyes wide. 

“Carl,” You breathed. “It’s  _ them _ .” 

“What?” Carl asked and squinted, furrowing his brows. He frowned. “Shit. They’re early.” 

“Carl,” You began to hyperventilate. 

“Hey, hey, calm down,” He whispered and cupped your cheeks. “It’s alright. Come on, let’s just go.” 

“They’re...they’re gonna take everything.” You said. Carl swallowed and looked at the Saviors as they entered the gates. 

“Not if I can help it, come on,” He said. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see…” He said, taking your hand, and walking away from them, turning your backs, knowing that it was something that you wouldn’t do if they had seen you. 

__  
  


“You’re not taking our medicine!” Carl shouted at the two Saviors that had entered the room, gun pointed at the both of them. You stood next to him, knife held tightly, ready to defend him if need-be. 

One of them chuckled, the fatter one with stubble on his chin and neck. “That’s real cute, kid, now put the pun down.” He said. 

“I will shoot you.” Carl warned and cocked the gun. You felt your heart stop, mentally preparing yourself for a fight.

“Woah, woah, fuckin, woah.” The sound of Negan caused you to freeze, face turning pale and blood freezing in your veins.

You turned your head and watched as Negan and Rick entered the room. Negan had a surprised smirk resting on his thin lips. Rick had a look of worry and fear on his face. To your surprise, you saw Lucille dangling from his hand. Negan stood in front of the two of you. Carl narrowed his eyes. 

“What the fuck do we have here? From the looks of it, you’re here threatening my men.” Negan said, leaning to the right - you noted that he did that... _ a lot _ . 

“I think you should get out of here,” Carl responded. “Before you see how dangerous we  _ really _ are.” 

Negan raised his brows, eyes widening. ‘Excuse the fuck out of my goddamn french, but did you just threaten me?” Carl said nothing, but from the look on Negan’s face, he knew exactly what the answer was. “Fucking, shit. I was so damn nice to you the other night. I let ya keep your arm, let you keep your girl, and now you do  _ this _ to me? Shit.” He leaned for emphasis on certain words. 

Carl said nothing, narrowing his eyes. You moved closer to Carl, knife at the ready, knuckles turning white. Negan looked between you and Carl before taking a sharp inhale. 

“This has got me thinking,” he began. “That we cannot trust you with guns. So, now I have a new plan!” His voice sounded overjoyed as he turned towards the Savior men, smirking before holding his hand out to Carl. “Give me the gun.” His voice had turned cold rather quickly. 

Carl swallowed. He glanced at the cache of medications, you, then his father. Rick gave him a pleading look. That was the only thing that convinced him to turn over the gun. He handed it to him, handle first. 

“Good boy,” Negan praised. “Now,” he turned to the men. “You,” he pointed to the chubby one. “Take all the damn medicine. And you,” he pointed to the other. “Take the girl and put her in the truck with me.” 

Your eyes widened. “What!?” You shouted as the Savior grabbed your arms, pulling you close. The grip with deathly, hurting you enough to drop the knife onto the floor, and made you whimper. 

Carl growled. “You can’t do that!” He shouted, stepping towards you, trying to grab you but the man just shoved Carl away. 

Negan laughed, leaning back. “Are you telling  _ me _ what to do? That’s fucking humorous.” 

“Negan, please,” Rick said, voice slightly shaky. “Please don’t do this.” 

“Not now, Rick. I was fucking nice to him and I was fucking nice to you.” He pointed to him. “I’ll keep her for a while. Teach your son a fucking lesson.” 

Carl’s eyes widened as he ran out of the house and ran towards the man carrying you. You kicked and screamed, trying to shove the man away. 

“Get off me!” You cried. “Carl!” A sob fell from your lips. 

‘Shut up,” He growled, pulling your hair back. You yelped and sobbed. 

“Get off her!” Carl shouted and grabbed the man’s arm, pulling on him. 

He shoved Carl away and growled. Carl landed on his back. You reached for him and bawled. 

Negan and Rick walked towards Carl. As Negan walked past, Rick helped his son up. Carl panted and clenched his fists and stormed over to Negan. 

“Let her go, Negan.” He said with a strong tone. 

Negan chuckled. “Nope.” He sauntered over to his men and his truck. 

“She didn’t do anything to you!” 

“Yeah, but  _ you _ did.” Negan turned around and pointed at the kid. “So, now, I gotta punish you.” 

Carl swallowed and watched as you were shoved into the front of one of the trucks and slammed the door. You began to bang on the window, screaming out profanities. Negan chuckled. 

“Let me say goodbye.” He said, voice slightly broken. 

“I’m sorry, what was that? I don’t think I heard you ask politely.” 

Carl closed his eye and let out a sigh, trying to hold back the snarky comments that he had boiling inside of him. He knew that it wouldn’t be good for you. “May I please say goodbye? Please,” he begged, looking at him. 

Negan’s tongue poked out of his mouth, wetting his lower lip as he hummed in thought. He slowly walked over to Rick and took Lucille gently in his hands. He turned to Rick. 

“You did good holdin my girl.” He said. “Now, I think I deserve a ‘thank you’.” 

Rick opened his mouth and looked down, jaw clenching. He shook his head. “Thank you.” He growled. 

“Say it again, nicer.” 

“Thank you.” Rick replied in a calmer tone. 

Negan smirked. “Hey,” He leaned closer to Rick’s ear. “I just slid my dick down your throat and you thanked me for it.” He said, watching the look of horror and fear grow on the leader’s face. He chuckled deeply, chest rumbling, as he turned around, gesturing towards Carl. “One goodbye kiss.” He smirked and walked over to the car, Carl following directly behind. 

Your face was a mess - red with tears staining your cheeks - and the poundings that you gave the window were rough, no doubt increasing the possibility of bruises forming there in the near future. The sight of Negan in the window caused you to halt any action that you were doing and sit down, staring at him and Carl in fear. Negan opened up the door, making you jump slightly. You sniffled and he gestured with Lucille to Carl. 

“Get out of here.” He said with his deep, leaderlike voice. 

Without giving an indication of an answer, you flew out of the car and hugged Carl tightly. Carl hugged you back, kissing your head. He pulled away, grabbing both of your hands in his. 

“Listen, (Y/N),” Carl said, staring into your eyes. “I need you to listen to me, okay?” 

You nodded frantically. “Okay,” your voice was frail. 

Carl nodded. “(Y/N), Negan’s going to take you with him.” He nodded. Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “Listen, (Y/N), he’s going to take you and you will be alright.” 

“No,” You let out small sobs. “Please don’t let him take me. I don’t wanna go.” 

“(Y/N), I know, just…” He swallowed. “I promise, we will get you back. I don’t know when, but we will.” 

“Please…” You sobbed. “Don’t let him take me, Carl.” 

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I promise I will get you back.” He whispered and pressed a kiss to your nose, pressing your foreheads against one another. “I promise.” 

You held onto his shirt shakily. Your eyes were closed and tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks. “Please,” You begged. 

“Time’s up!” Negan said. “Get back in the car.” He gestured. 

You looked back at him and shook your head. “N-No.” You objected. 

“I’m not going to say it again. Next time I’ll force you into the fucking car.” He said. 

“(y/n), please go.” Carl whispered. 

Your bottom lip wobbled as you turned to Carl. You cupped his cheeks, gave him a quick, shaky peck on the lips before turning back to the car and crawling into the truck, sitting in the center, bringing your knees together and folding your hands in your lap. You sobbed lightly. Negan glanced at you and then Carl and smirked. 

“I’ll see you later, sport.” He said and got into the car, slamming the door. 

He rolled down the window just as a Savior got into the driver’s side. You felt squished between the two men. Negan stuck his head out the window. 

“I’ll come back and see you soon, Prick!” Negan smirked, sticking his hand out the window, flipping off the residents of Alexandria as the truck started and they drove. 

Once they all left, Negan rolled the window up halfway, chuckling deeply. He glanced down at you, studying your red cheeks and eyes. He noted the way you were rocking yourself back and forth. 

“(Y/N), huh?” He hummed. You shuddered at the use of your name. “Here, hold her for me.” He said, putting Lucille directly in front of you. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the bat and images began to flash in your mind of the night four days ago. The way that he had used the bat to smash your father’s head in. That bat was the reason that you no longer had a father, that your mother was a widow, that you cried. Negan was the reason for all of it, but it all happened the way it did because of that fucking bat. You shook more violently as you pushed the bat away. Negan chuckled. 

“Terrifying, isn’t she?” He asked, examining the barbed wire that decorated the wooden frame. Afterwards, he glanced at you, biting his lip. “Oh, come on kid, it won’t be that fucking bad.” He said. “It’s not like I’m going to torture you. I’m an asshole, not a psychopath.” 

At least he was willing to admit it. 

“Trust me, (Y/N),” Negan said, staring out with window, running his fingers through his hair. ‘When we get back home, and you stay for a couple of days, you’re gonna be begging me not to take you back. I can guaran-fucking-tee it.” 

You knew he was wrong. The time that you spent away from home, from Carl and your mother, was going to be eternal Hell. You were scared, nauseous, and angry all at once. You wanted to be back in Carl’s arms. However, the words that he had spoken to you were playing over and over in your head. 

_ I promise, we will get you back. I don’t know when, but we will _ .

With that and the lingering touches on your skin, you were able to block out all the words that were spoken from Negan, even if they were directed at you or not. Negan never forced you to speak with him, which surprised you to say the least. It made you even more worried, though, for what you had waiting for you when you got to the Savior’s home. 


	2. Easy Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are getting further and further away from your home and you don't like it at all. Negan takes you back to his home and gives you a tour, ending with you getting your own, uncomfortable room.

The entire ride to The Sanctuary was filled with a concoction of silence and talk from Negan. He asked questions at times, talked to you the others, but all the words that had come out of his mouth went in one ear and out the other, fading slowly before your brain was able to process them. At that time, though, you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to understand anything that he was saying. You just wanted to go home. Wanted to go back to Alexandria. Wanted to cuddle into Carl’s arms and never let go, never lift your head, never look at the world outside the walls of Alexandria ever again.

You couldn’t though. The world was a horrible place and you were witnessing it first hand. Negan had taken you all because Carl did something that he didn’t like. Some people were sick with power - taking over whoever they thought would listen and forcing the ones who were not in order to feed their ego. Rick wasn’t like that. He was never like that and that was what you liked about him. At Alexandria, everyone had a say in what they were going to do. 

Negan was a dictator, though. A man who was above everyone else. It was as if he got off on the idea of controlling other people and it made you sick to your stomach. It made you feel bad for the people that were being forced to live underneath that vile man. Those poor, innocent people that must have lived for months with the abuse of everyday life from the tyrant that they served. 

Your eyes and cheeks were embarrassingly red by then, wet streaks decorating your cheeks to indicate where the tears had once traveled. Your hands sat in front of you, connected in your lap, fingers intertwined as if they were giving each other a hug. God only knew how much you really needed a hug at that point. You wanted one from anyone. From Carl, your mom, Rick, Michonne. Not Negan. Anybody but Negan. 

“Hey,” Negan looked at you. He reached over, grabbed your jaw lightly with his hand and turned your head so that you were looking right at him. “I’m not a bad guy, kid.” 

Glancing up into his eyes, you couldn’t tell if Negan believed what he said himself or not. His eyes were deceiving and you didn’t trust them. You merely blinked and tried to pull away from his hold. Negan let your jaw go and you glanced at the road ahead. Negan shook his head and sat back in the seat, right arm resting on the window. 

“You’ll learn, (Y/N),” he said. “I’m the good guy here. Rick…” he shook his head. “He killed  _ my _ men. Not the other way around.” 

You didn’t acknowledge him. Again, the words vanished from your mind before you were able to comprehend what he had said. To you, Negan was meaningless. All you wanted to do was get out of the car and go back home. Carl learned his lesson, you wanted to go home even though you knew that Negan wasn’t going to let you go. Shove you off and say ‘find your own way home’. Negan didn’t seem like that type of person. When he took you he looked serious yet amused, like the punishment was something that he enjoyed. As if he found entertainment in seeing you and Carl and the rest of Alexandria suffer. 

The long line of trucks turned down a secluded roadway, the vehicles bouncing as they drove on the gravel. Soon, beyond the horizon, you could see it. The Sanctuary. It was a large warehouse that was colored gray on the outside with a fence that surrounded it. It was a simple fence, something that could have easily been taken down. You figured, then, that people feared Negan enough to be stay away from the fence. That was all that The Saviors needed. It kept walkers out and Negan was the one person that kept the living out. 

Inside the gates, you could see some people pacing around, guns in their hands, standing on guard at different places on the perimeter. As the truck inched closer, you felt the anxiety inside of your stomach grow to the point where you thought you were going to throw up. You shrunk in your spot between Negan and the Savior, hoping to disappear. Alas, it could not happen. Instead, the truck stopped as they got further into the Sanctuary. By then, Negan and the Savior got out of the car, grabbing Lucille as he did so. Negan stood outside the door, staring at you. 

“Come on, kid.” He said, gesturing out with Lucille. 

You just sat there, hands balled into fists beside you. You didn’t move from the spot you were in. Negan rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“Get out before I drag you out.” He demanded. 

A sigh fell from your lips before you turned and got out of the car. Negan closed the door behind you. 

“You really need to learn to listen, kid. You and everyone else at that fucking place.” Negan said, leaning slightly. 

“Oh fuck off.” You growled, glaring at Negan. 

Negan raised his brows and glanced down at you. “Holy fuck, kid, you got a fucking mouth on you.” He chuckled. “I fucking like it.” 

You rolled your eyes and looked away, shaking your head. Negan got amused by the dumbest things. You tensed when you felt his hand on your shoulder. 

“Come on, kid, let me give you a grand fucking tour of the place.” 

Knowing that you were going to get nowhere if you were going to disobey him, you walked with him, placing your hands into your jean pockets, shoulders still tense from the previous touch. All around you, you saw Saviors walking back and forth from the buildings and the vehicles, carrying the items that they had taken from your home to different places around the Sanctuary. Negan took his hand off your shoulder and slung Lucille over his own, a smirk resting on his lips. He began to walk towards the building, leaning back as he did so. 

“Keep up, (Y/N),” he said, the sound of your name rancid on his tongue. “Don’t want you fucking around.” 

You followed timidly. Negan was six-foot at the least, towering over you with great ease. Due to the height difference, you had to take longer steps in order to keep up with him. When you entered the warehouse that Negan called home, you noticed that the feeling inside was rather similar to how it felt outside - decently hot and humid - and it made you genuinely wonder how Negan could wear the leather jacket like he did. 

Passing through the halls, you saw many different people - mostly men with a selective amount of women. What struck you as strange was the fact that every single person, who you assumed were Negan’s slaves, knelt down as soon as they saw Negan passing by. They worshipped him, that must have been the reason. They worshipped him like a king and it made you sick. 

There was a large room, an area in which people were congregated and performing different tasks. You were on a balcony, overseeing everyone in the room. Negan stopped while the two of you were still on the balcony. He turned towards the people and smirked, staring. You stopped beside him, taking your hands out of your pockets. You decided to turn so that you were looking out at the people as well. Negan inhaled sharply, taking Lucille off of his shoulder and gesturing out to the men and women. 

“These are the workers,” he said and lowered Lucille. 

“You mean your slaves?” The words were mumbled underneath your breath, but it seemed like Negan was still able to hear it. It was then that you figured that your sarcastic comments would all have to be kept in safe keeping inside of your head. 

Negan chuckled and shook his head. “These guys make every fucking thing happen. They work, they produce, and then I give. If they don’t work and they don’t produce, then I don’t fucking give. It is up to them whether or not they survive. That’s how the world has always worked and that is how it will continue to fucking work.” 

It made sense, once you thought about it. The idea of having a world where you have to do your work in order to get the necessary items to live was the same as it had been before the world ended. In retrospect, it was logical, but to you, it looked like Hell. Negan glanced at you, humming, biting his lip. 

“What do you think?” He asked, smirking. 

Glancing up at him, you kept a poker face. Both of you kept your faces before you turned and glanced at the individuals working below you and Negan. Negan shook his head in disapproval. 

“Man, doesn’t appreciate a fucking thing. You fucking disappoint me, kid.” 

_ Didn’t know I was looking to impress you, my bad, _ you thought to yourself, turning your head so that you could roll your eyes without him looking. 

Negan shook his head. “Follow me,” he grumbled. “We’re not finished yet.” 

Placing Lucille back onto his shoulder, Negan turned down the way that the two of you had come from and began to walk. Obediently, without much of a choice, you followed after him, keeping the pace so that he didn’t get irritated. Negan said nothing to you as you walked. He kept the same stature as he had when he began showing you around. It was dominant and intimidating - not to you, though. He seemed cocky to you, a trait that you didn’t particularly favor, and that made you hate him even more. 

Negan led you around the Sanctuary. The second place that he introduced you to was the garden. It was rather large with many workers working in different sections of the garden. There were tomatoes, bell peppers, potatoes, carrots, radishes, cabbages, and some apple trees in the corner of the garden that were starting to sprout food. Although you would not want to admit it, the garden looked rather successful. It was something that the group of Alexandria and Hilltop needed desperately. 

People were still bowing down to Negan as the two of you passed by the workers. It was a disgusting sight to say the least, but you still said nothing as Negan gave you the tour. 

The third place for the two of you to visit was located inside of the Sanctuary once again. It would have been simple to say that it was a surprising sight, but you were more than surprised. You were gobsmacked, eyes wide and mouth parted slightly. 

Inside of a room, there were only women, each of them sporting black dresses and black heels that matched. It was then that it was explained to you with a disgusting smirk that was plastered on Negan’s thin lips. Negan gestured towards the room, to the women that were gathered inside. 

“These beautiful fucking women,” he trailed and glanced at you. “Are my wives.”

_ WIVES _ !? 

That was impossible. There was no way that all of the women in the room were betrothed to Negan. Why would they want something like that? Why would these women, who were beautiful to say the least, want to be with Negan? Most importantly, why would Negan take all of the women for himself? Was he that egotistical? Or was he a sicker and more twisted bastard than you originally thought?

“Ain’t they all fucking beautiful?” He asked, smirked, and glanced down at you, raising a brow. 

You opened up your mouth, glanced up at him, and then closed it. You looked away and shook your head. You were disgusted. You just wanted to go home. 

“No? Wow, that’s the first fucking answer that you have given me all fucking day and I’m fucking insulted.” Negan shook his head. “Wow.” He repeated, looking away from you and at his wives. Lifting his hand, he gestured for you to follow him. “Come here,” he said, voice stern, as he walked deeper into the room. 

A sigh escaped from your lips as you walked with Negan into the room. Negan stopped near a female with shoulder length light brown hair. She wore the same outfit that the rest of the women did - you refused to refer to them as his wives. 

“Sherry,” Negan’s voice was gruff. “Watch her, why don’t you?” 

Sherry glanced at you, raising her brows. She frowned. “Negan, she’s a kid, what’re you-” 

“Don’t fucking worry about what I’m fucking doing.” Negan said. Sherry kept her mouth shut. Negan nodded and turned towards you. “Stay here.” He commanded before turning and leaving the room. 

You watched as he left and finally let out the breath that you didn’t know you were holding when Negan was out of your sight. It was then that you turned your attention to the women who were looking at you. The stares felt like a weight that was being pressed down on top of you. They were uncomfortable. Sherry raised her brows and glanced around. 

“Alright, girls, go back to what you were doing.” She said and made her way closer to you. Instinctively, you took a step back. Sherry shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’m nothing like Negan.” 

For some reason, the tone of her voice was something that reassured you. You slowly relaxed your body, but still kept yourself prepared just in case anything happened. Sherry walked up to you slowly and cautiously, watching all of the other women avert their eyes and continue on with the conversations that they were having. Sherry walked over to you and gently grabbed your hand, guiding you over to the couch that sat in the center of the room. She sat down and you followed suit. The couch was simple yet comfortable. You kept your mouth shut, eyes casted downwards. Sherry was the one that broke the silence. 

“What’re you doing here?” She ask in a soft, motherly voice. 

Looking up at her, you swallowed the lump that was in your throat. Opening your mouth, you were hesitant about speaking, uncertain about what you were and were not allowed to say. Sherry reached over, pressing a hand against your shoulder gingerly. 

“Don’t worry,” she said. “You won’t get hurt for telling me.” 

You weren’t too sure about that, but what was it going to hurt?

“I’m from Alexandria.” You said. “And Negan brought me here because my boyfriend threatened him.” 

A sigh escaped from Sherry’s lips as she shook her head. “That man, I swear.” She muttered. “I am so sorry that he did that to you. He shouldn’t have done that.” 

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s abrasive.” You agreed. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart. What’s your boyfriend’s name, if you don't mind me asking. Maybe thinking about him will make you feel a bit better?” 

Thinking about Carl only made it worse for you. With Negan gone, though, you felt you were able to relax slightly. You tried to think about Carl,  about the way that he would hold you, bring you close to his chest, how comforting his hugs were. 

“His name is Carl,” you told her. 

“Carl, that’s nice.” She said and nodded. “How long have the two of you been together?” 

“About...going on one and a half years.”

A comforting smile appeared on Sherry’s lush lips. She was sat up straight, leg crossed over the other and it got you wondering if Negan made the women sit properly. “It’s always nice to have someone to love, especially in a world like this. Is he nice?” 

“Oh, he’s more than nice.” For the first time since you left Alexandria, a smile appeared on your face. It seemed that Sherry was right. Thinking and talking about Carl, especially to a woman that seemed like she was genuinely trying to make you feel more comfortable with the harsh situation at hand, was a wonderful remedy to your fear and anxiety. “Carl is romantic, sweet, loving, everything like that. He treats me so well. Like a queen. He will take me on little ‘dates’ where we spend a night in, he tries to cook me something and then we snuggle in bed.” 

“Carl sounds like a really good kid. How old is he compared to you?” She asked. 

“Oh, we’re the same age. We met about two years ago when his group brought me in when they found me.” You fiddled with your fingers as a force of habit. “A year later, or so, Carl made the first move and we’ve been a thing every since. He treats me right and he worries so much about me. He even-” You froze when you saw Negan appear in the doorway and make his way over to you and Sherry. Immediately you looked down, not wanting to look at him for any reason. 

Negan walked over to the two of you. “Oh, please, don’t let me stop your fucking conversation.” You, nor Sherry, said anything. “Go ahead, (Y/N).” 

You glanced over at Sherry to see the assuring look in her eyes. You didn’t want to look at Negan. “He...um...only seems to worry about me, ya...ya know?’ You mumbled, rubbing the back of your head, running your fingers through your hair. “Gives me flowers, gets me stuff from runs like small gifts. He...really treats me well.” The last couple of words were mere mumbles that fell from your mouth. 

Negan smirked. “You telling Sherry about Carl, huh? You tell her that he was the reason why you’re here now?” He raised his brows and chuckled. 

“Oh, leave her alone, Negan.” Sherry shook her head in disapproval. 

“I’m just fucking with her, Sherry.” Negan said. 

“And you need to stop.” 

“I can do whatever the  _ fuck _ I want, Sherry.” Negan shook his head. He then pointed at you with Lucille. “Stand up and follow me.” He turned and began to walk out of the room. 

You stood compliantly, folding your hands in front of you and following him. Again, you kept your pace alongside the man. Negan led you down a different hallway than you had traveled down earlier. It made you realize that the place was actually larger on the inside than the outside would originally lead you to believe. 

_ “We’re on Easy Street _

_ And it feels so sweet.  _

_ ‘Cause the world is ‘bout a treat _

_ When you’re on Easy Street…” _

 

The song was one that you had never heard of before. The lyrics continued to play on to the peppy sounding song. You furrowed your brows as you soon approached a long line of doors. There was one that was marked with a large number three. Negan stopped at the door. There was already a Savior at the door, waiting for instructions from the man that they called a leader. Negan gestured to the man with Lucille. 

“Open the door.” He told him. 

_ “And we’re breaking out the good champagne _

_ We’re sitting pretty on the gravy train _

_ And when we sing every sweet refrain repeats _

_ Right here on Easy Street…” _

 

The song was decently loud but not loud enough to be annoying. The Savior walked over to the door made of metal and opened it. To you, it looked heavy. It made a horrible squeaking noise as it opened up, suggesting that it hadn’t been properly examined or fixed in years. Peering inside, you saw the room. It was small, dark, and empty. You furrowed your brows. There was nothing exciting there - which you were partially thankful for. You turned to look at Negan, confused look still laced on your face. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Negan chuckled. “I’m pretty sure that you know what is going to happen.” 

_ No, I really don’t _ , you thought. However, you were completely terrified about what  _ was _ going to happen. Many different thoughts and scenarios filled your head. Was he going to leave you in there? Starve you to death? Wait and watch as you begged to get out? Was he going to torture you? Rape you? What was going to happen?

Negan bit his lip, gesturing inside, smirking. “Get in.” 

You were hesitant, flashing from the room, to Negan, then back at the room. Negan growled and sighed.

“I’m not going to tell you again. Get the fuck into the fucking room.  _ Now _ .” 

The way that he spoke made a shiver run down your spine. You couldn’t help but submissively trudge into the room. You lifted your arms and felt around. When you felt the concrete wall ahead of you, you turned around and could see the light that showed Negan and the Savior. Using his finger, Negan gestured towards the ground. 

“Sit.” 

You did just that, sitting down on the floor, back against the concrete. It was hotter inside compared to the rest of the building. It was rather uncomfortable to sit in. You wanted to open your mouth and ask him what the Hell you were going to do in there, but then again, you really didn’t want to talk to him or have anything to do with him for that matter. Negan stepped into the doorway. 

“This is your new home.” He said. “Don’t worry. By the looks of it, it may not seem like much, but if things go fucking fan-fucking-tastic for you, then I’ll maybe consider a fucking upgrade.” He said. You frowned. “Three square meals a fucking day, clean fucking clothes, and a room of your very fucking own.” 

You looked around. “I don’t wanna be in here.” You managed to say through your fear and anxiety. 

“Too fucking bad.” Negan said, shrugging lightly. “This is what happens when people don’t follow my fucking rules. So, you’ll stay in here and then someone will bring you your fucking food, got it? No funny business or else we’ll be forced to chain you up, and I really don’t think you’ll like that fucking punishment, will you?” 

Intuitively, you shook your head. However, Negan didn’t really like that response, either that or he couldn’t see it. You were pretty certain that he didn’t appreciate you not giving him the correct answer. 

“Need you to speak up, kid, I didn’t fucking hear you.” 

He wanted a verbal response and it was something that you knew you had to give. Either that or you were going to get punished. You really didn’t wanna be chained up in a room that was full of nothing but darkness. 

“No, I wouldn’t like that.” You replied to his question, biting your lip afterwards. 

“That’s what I thought.” Negan gave a small nod. He then backed up. “Get comfortable, you’ll be in there awhile. Close the door.” He gestured to the Savior. 

With a nod, and without another word, the Savior closed the door. The last thing you saw before you entered total darkness was the smirk that was plastered on Negan’s lips. 

  
  
  


It was worse inside the room than you could have imagined. About an hour after you were locked inside, your entire body was drenched in sweat, small wet patches visible if someone were to open the door. You weren’t entirely sure about what time it actually was, but by associating the time that they dropped off your food with the time of night, it was about seven or eight o’clock when you finally ate. 

The food wasn’t that bad. It was actually rather enjoyable. The silver tray that had been passed to you was filled with a sloppy pile of spaghetti noodles, peach slices, and peppers. You ate every single piece of it and an hour later, someone came to collect the tray from you and give you a fresh pair of clothes you were you expected to change into.

The articles of clothing were a bit baggy on you, but you didn’t seem to mind. They were comfortable and that was what you had to be thankful for. Afterwards, you handed your dirty clothes to the woman that was outside and she promise you that she would have them washed for you so that you could wear them the next day. You could only give her a small nod, afraid of what would happen if you would mouth off. 

When the door was shut and the darkness engulfed you once again, you sighed and walked to the corner of the room and laid down on the floor. You had hoped that the concrete was going to be able to cool you down a bit and you were right. You placed as much of your exposed skin against the concrete wall and floor as you possibly could. 

However, just as you were about to attempt to go to sleep, that song played again. 

_ “We’re on Easy Street _

_ And it feels so sweet _

_ ‘Cause the world is ‘bout a treat _

_ When you’re on Easy Street” _

 

The same song had been playing nonstop for the past several hours and it was then that you realized that they used it as some sort of torture device instead of physical pain. In theory, it was a great idea. Put the same song into someone’s head, repeating it over and over again until they go crazy. It was bound to work and it was already starting to work on you. God, you wanted to rip your goddamn ears off. 

You buried your face into the shirt that you wore and closed your eyes tightly, trying to will your brain to think of anything other than the lyrics to the song that you already had memorized. Instead, you did your best to think about the people that always comforted you in times of need. You did your best to think of Carl and your mom. Not your dad. Not for a while. Despite the fact that you loved him to the bottom of your heart, you didn’t want to cry. You wanted to feel happy, not sad. Some other day, you would think about your father. 

The image of Carl cuddling against you in bed filled your mind. You could practically feel the ghost arm that wrapped itself around your stomach and pull you closer to the phantom that you wished was real. You also imagined your mother wrapping her arms around you, telling you that it was going to be alright. That she was slowly stroking your back, soothing you. 

The touches were fake, though, just mere figments of your imagination. A coping mechanism to the hell that you were facing at the very moment. Carl wasn’t there, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him to be. 

With the picture and feel of the ghost touch, however, you were able to block the noise of the song from your eardrums long enough for you to drift off into an uncomfortable sleep. 


	3. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been three days since you had been kidnapped by Negan, so Rick and Carl decided to finally go to the Hilltop and tell Maggie about the event.

Carl knew he had to tell Maggie about (Y/N)’s kidnapping. He had to tell her about the fact that he wasn’t able to do anything about it. That he wasn’t able to stop them from taking her daughter and that it was all his fault for provoking the leader of the group that killed her husband. It was all Carl’s fault that (Y/N) was at the hands of Negan. God, even thinking about it made Carl angry at, not only, himself, but Negan as well. If anything happened to her, Carl was going to kill him. He was going to kill Negan. He was sure of that.

Rick planned on taking Carl to the Hilltop that day. It was originally Rick’s idea to tell Maggie about the events that occurred. Carl’s mind was too foggy for him to be able to think straight. Carl agreed to go with Rick in order to talk to the widow. Rick and Carl had not had a full conversation for three days - ever since (y/n) had been taken - and the car ride to the Hilltop was just as awkward. Rick kept his eyes on the road and Carl had his gaze out the window, studying the scenery as he passed it by, soon getting lost in his own thoughts, thoughts of (Y/N) by herself in a place that she was completely unaware of filling his mind as well as ideas of how he could sneak his way into The Sanctuary to get his girl back. He needed to get her back. He barely slept without her. God only knows how she was coming along. 

“Hey,” the gruff voice of his father jolted him out of his thoughts. Carl jumped visibly and glanced at Rick, his brown hair cascading down his face and over his eye. He reached up and brushed his hair behind his ear. 

“Yeah?”

Rick was silent for some time as he glanced at his son and then back at the road. It took Rick a while before he actually began to speak again. “It’s not your fault.” 

Rick had said that many times before. Said it so many times that Carl had even lost count. He was sick and tired of hearing that it wasn’t his fault because he knew that it  _ was _ his fault, that every time Rick spoke that line to him he was lying right to his face, that he was the reason why (Y/N) was gone and the reason why Maggie lost her daughter. He merely scoffed and looked away, back at the wooded area that they drove around. Rick frowned and let his shoulders slump as he glanced at the road ahead, focusing on his driving. 

Rick felt bad. He knew that Carl had a sense of guilt boiling inside of him over what had happened to (Y/N), but he hated seeing his son look so depressed. Seeing him mope around all day, distracted at meals and unable to go on runs because of all the thoughts that he knew were running through his head. As a father, he was supposed to make his son feel better. He had no idea how to do it though. A part of him recognized that he had to figure it out on his own, but another part of him wanted the words that fell from his lips on a daily basis - the ‘it’s not your faults’ and ‘you’ll be okays’ - to be the only thing that helped him, that soothed him, but it seemed that the only thing the words did was irritate his son even more. Every day he tried to think of different ways that he could help him, but every thought seemed pointless. He knew Carl wouldn’t want to talk about it and had a gut feeling that the only thing that he was thinking about was a way to get (Y/N) out of The Sanctuary. He just hoped that Carl wouldn’t do anything stupid, even though Rick would do the same thing if Michonne, Carl, or Judith was kidnapped the same way that (Y/N) had been. 

The gates of the Hilltop were visible from the road. Their tall, rusting stature seemed comforting. The community seemed secluded - a perfect place for Maggie to hide out. It would be easier for her to be there than for Rick and the rest of the Alexandrians to hide her in their own gates. The Saviors would surely find her there. The Hilltop was the only place with a living doctor that they could keep the pregnant woman. 

Two individuals were on watch and saw the car as it approached. The male and female studied the vehicle and watched as Rick rolled down his window and stuck his head out, giving a small wave. The people nodded and opened the large metal gates. They slowly parted and Rick drove the car every so gradually into the community. 

Maggie and Sasha slowly made their way from the plantation house to the vehicle just as Rick shut it off and the two Grimes men got out. Maggie’s appearance looked slightly better than it was when they met Negan. Her skin was slowly starting to go back to its regular peach color. Her short hair was brushed back behind her ears. Carl could tell that Maggie was confused as to why she didn’t see her daughter there and that made Carl’s stomach churn with guilt. 

Rick and Carl made their way to Maggie. She met them halfway. “Where’s (Y/N)? Did she not want to come?” Maggie asked with her brows furrowed. Carl expected nothing else to come out of her mouth. 

Rick let out a sigh, breath escaping through his nostrils as he glanced at Carl, expecting him to give Maggie the answer. Maggie’s gaze shifted from Rick to his son and raised her brows. Carl fumbled with the words that failed to come out of his mouth. The words that would tell Maggie that it was his fault that (Y/N) was gone and she could blame him all she wanted. She could hit him, kill him, do anything because without him and his rebellious actions against Negan the first time that they visited, then (Y/N) would not be in the situation that she is in. God, how she must be absolutely terrified. Just thinking about how scared she must have been tugged at his heart strings. 

“Um…” he trailed as he glanced up into Maggie’s eyes. The hesitation allowed for a look of worry to cross Maggie’s face. 

“Did something happen?” 

Rick knew how difficult it was for Carl to admit to Maggie what had happened and how it did so. He placed a hand on his son’s shoulder as a type of calming method. He only hoped that it was affecting Carl the way that he wanted it to. Carl glanced down at the ground, closed his left eye, and then let out a sigh before he straightened himself out and looked at Maggie. 

“Negan took her.” He stated. “A couple of days ago. The day that Negan first showed up to get the supplies, I threatened him and he took her.” 

It was as if the healing that Maggie had done was erased. Her skin began to slowly pale, the corner of her lips facing down, and her eyes widening. Sasha got closer to Maggie, placing a hand on her shoulder. The woman seemed as if she was going to pass out. 

“How...how did this happen? How did you let them just...take her?” She was directing the question not only towards Carl, but to Rick as well. 

“They were going to hurt her. They were going to kill someone if we did anything.” Rick said, turning his body slightly and gesturing with his hand as he talked. 

“I tried.” Carl said to her. “I tried to get him away from her, but he was going to hurt her and they took all our guns. We couldn’t fight them off with our fists. It wouldn’t have ended well and she was going to get taken anyway.” 

Maggie’s skin had turned a ghostly white color to the point where she was almost transparent. She began to hyperventilate. Sasha frowned and got closer to Maggie, grabbing lightly onto her forearms, fingers wrapping around them and holding her up lightly. Carl felt bad. The guilt was etched onto his features like a painting. He took a step closer. 

“Maggie, I’m sorry…” he trailed, voice quiet and brows raised. 

“We need to go get her.” Maggie ignored the apology. 

“Maggie, we can’t.” Rick stated. 

“You need to stay here.” Sasha spoke. 

“My  _ daughter _ is out there with the man that killed my  _ husband _ .” Maggie’s voice was stern as she stood up straight, looking into Rick’s eyes. 

“We can’t.” Rick said and stepped forward. His voice was quiet, but serious at the same time. His body was tilted slightly as he looked into her eyes. “They outnumber us. They have our guns. They’ll kill us.” 

“God only knows what he’s doing to her right now!” 

Rick nor Carl had any idea what to say. They wanted to say that there was no way that Negan was hurting (Y/N), but they didn’t know. They had no idea whether or not (Y/N) was alright. For all they knew, she could have been dead somewhere in a ditch. All they could do was hope that Negan wasn’t that much of a sick, twisted son of a bitch. Rick glanced at Carl before he looked at Maggie. 

“We’ll get her back.” He assured her. He didn’t know when, but he knew that they were going to get her back...eventually. 

Maggie swallowed the lump that had been forming in her throat since the beginning of the conversation. She couldn’t say anything. She just simply nodded her head. Everyone knew that she wanted to say something. That she wanted to curse out Rick and Carl because they let Negan take her little girl. Let the psychopath take her daughter. Carl knew that he deserved it, but Maggie said nothing. She turned back to the plantation, moving away from the group. Carl frowned and slumped his shoulders. Rick moved over to Sasha, getting her attention, leaning close to her so that he could speak to her quietly. 

“Keep an eye on her,” he told her. “Make sure she doesn’t do anything.” 

“Already ahead of you.” Sasha nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything. Just be sure to get (Y/N) back.” 

“We’ll try.” Rick huffed. 

Sasha gave him a small nod before she turned around and followed after Maggie. Carl watched as the two women vanished before he looked away. Rick walked back over to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent gesture telling his son that it would be best if they left. Carl responded by traveling to the car. Carl got into the passenger’s seat, buckling up and crossing his arms over his chest. Rick shook his head, hands placed at his sides as he sauntered over to the vehicle. He got inside and turned on the car, backing out of the Hilltop community, watching as the heavy gates were closed behind him. 

The ride home was silent, words hanging that wanted to escape. It was the words that Rick wanted to speak and comfort him, but he knew that it wouldn’t help Carl. That he had heard the words over and over again and did not want to hear them again. He glanced over at Carl for a couple of seconds before he turned his attention back to the road. He opened his mouth, wanting to say that it wasn’t his son’s fault, but he knew that Carl would retaliate and disagree with him so he knew that it was useless. Instead, he spoke the only words that he could think of. 

“We’ll get her back.” 

Carl glanced at Rick, but said nothing else. He glanced back at the scene around them and waited, contemplating what steps he should take in order to get (Y/N) back. At that point, he would do anything to make sure that she was alright. 


	4. You're In Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four Days. You have spent four days inside of that damn room. You miss the smell of the outside. You even miss the smell of the walkers. When someone accidentally leaves the door unlocked, you finally get your chance to escape.

Four days. Four days since the door closed on your prison cell. Four days since you saw the light of day. Four days until you stepped outside and felt the sun blanketing your skin. You missed the sun, you missed the wind, you missed Alexandria, and, more importantly, you missed Carl. You missed the way that he held you, the way he kissed you, the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear to make you feel better, and the way he said your name. You missed that voice. His soothing voice. What kept you through the torture of being left in the dark room was always him and you knew that he was going to keep his word. You knew that he was going to get you back, just like he told you he would.

The room was pitch black.  _ Easy Street _ echoed through the corridor. It wasn’t excessively loud to the point where it was blaring in your ear, but it was still noticeably annoying. The tray that sat beside your sweating body used to be filled with a small amount of canned fruit, old bread, and semi-fresh meat. Your stomach growled, still hungry from the lack of nutrients that you received. However, they still fed you enough to satisfy the hunger that lingered within your stomach. Still, it wasn’t easy being kept prisoner to a psychotic bastard that was thirsty for blood and power. 

As light flooded into the room, you covered your eyes, head aching because of the bright rays. You cringed and moved towards the far corner of the enclosed room. You blinked and tried to stare up at the person that entered the room to take your tray. From the outline, you gave a small guess that it was a male. You noticed that there was an overabundance of men in the Sanctuary that actually worked. You didn’t see many female workers. You could only assume that Negan was a chauvinistic pig that liked it when men worked and when women did the sexual pleasing, which made him look like even more of an asshole than the first day you met him. 

Your pupils began to adjust to the new degree of light the longer you kept your eyes open. The man said nothing to you. All he did was he walked over to the tray, picked it up, and left the room, closing the door directly afterwards. You were used to the silence given to you by everyone else. Hell, the only people who would actually talk to you were the wives, when they clothed you and assisted you with the baths, and Negan. No one else bothered to talk to you unless they  _ absolutely _ had to, and even then it wasn’t very often. Negan would prefer talking to you himself with that disgusting smirk that he wore on his face most of the time. You hated it. 

As soon as the man left the room, you were able to relax internally once again. You sat down on the ground, shoulders slumped and head leaned back against the concrete wall. For a brief moment, you glanced at the door before you began to crawl over to it. You knelt down in front of the metal door, hesitantly reached up, wrapped your fingers around the doorknob, and took a deep breath. 

Every time someone left the room, whether it was after they gave you food, clothed you, or took the food away, you always made your way slowly over to the door and made sure you checked the doorknob. There was just a feeling in the pit of your stomach that gave you the idea that there was bound to be some moron that didn’t lock the door as they left. You always figured that it was worth a shot. The worst thing that could happen is the door was still locked, right?  

Once you waited a couple of seconds, guaranteeing that the man was out of sight, you turned the doorknob, expecting it to catch before it got to the halfway point. However, that wasn’t the case. It kept going and going and going until you heard the click and the door slowly opened up. Your eyes widened. Quickly, you glanced around. The hall was empty and the only sound that was able to hit your ear was the lyrics to  _ Easy Street _ .  

Not knowing what to do, you closed the door. This was your chance. The chance to escape from the prison you had been stuck in for four days. Did you have a plan? No. At that moment, though, you had to think of a way to get out without anyone finding out. How would you do that? You didn’t know your way around the Sanctuary and any hall you turned down could be leading you into a trap filled with men ready to kill you or bring you back. What if Negan found out? You were definitely dead then. Either that or you would go with  _ smaller _ portion sizes than you were already limited to. You really didn’t want that. 

However, this was a chance for you to escape. A chance for you to finally see your family again. To see Judith, Carl, Rick, Michonne, Maggie….Maggie. You wanted to see your mom. She must have been worried sick about you and you could do nothing about it. You couldn’t call her and tell her that you were alright. You could just wish that you would get to leave soon or that the plan you were building up inside your head would work somehow. You weren’t confident with the latter option. All you could hope was that no one would come into your cell so that it gave you enough time to think of a plan and attempt your escape. 

So you moved beside the door and sat down in the corner of the room, back pressed up against the concrete wall. Your knees were drawn to your chest and your eyes were focused on the wall across from you. Your wrists were resting gently on top of your knees, allowing your hands to hang in front of your legs. Slowly, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying your best to drown out the music that was sticking to your eardrums like glue. With your even breathing you attempted to keep your mind focused on the task at hand: creating a rough escape route and a way to get out of it if you were to get caught. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


You couldn’t give the exact amount of time that you took before you finally decided on a rough plan. No one had come back yet, so the door stayed unlocked. The plan you had conceived was, indeed, rough, but in the end it could work if you executed it correctly. The plan was simple. All you had to do was use your ears and stealth to attempt to sneak your way through the Sanctuary and to the outside world that you hadn’t seen in days. It was risky, but it was still worth a shot. Part of you trusted that Negan wasn’t going to kill you just because you snuck out because someone left the door open, but the other part of you said the opposite part was stupid, that Negan was not someone to be trusted. You didn’t know what to believe. Negan could kill you or he could just take you back to the cell and make sure that it was locked. In the end, you would take a smaller amount of food over death any day. 

With the plan formulated in your head, you slowly moved back over to the door. You pressed your ear against the door, closing your eyes, trying to concentrate on the sounds outside, attempting to single out the annoying song that filled your ear. Aside from the song, there was nothing on the outside. You let out a small breath of air before you grabbed the doorknob, wrapping your fingers slowly around it. Your hands were shaking, the nerves flooding your body. A part of you was trying to talk you out of trying to escape from the room, but the other part was screaming at you to run and never go back. You had to listen to  _ that  _ voice. To the voice that told you you had to do anything to go back to your mother and boyfriend.  _ Anything _ . 

After a couple more seconds of contemplation, you finally opened the door, making sure that it was as quiet as possible. You cringed as the lights hit your face. You had to wait a couple of seconds in order get your eyes adjusted to the light. It took about half a minute before you were able to see the hallway. You groaned and rubbed your eyes. The hallway was empty.  _ Thank God _ . You went to stand up before you heard a couple of footsteps. You cursed underneath your breath as you slowly closed the door. You pressed your ear against the metal and closed your eyes, trying to hear anything that was going on. You could barely make out the words that were being spoken as another metal door opened. 

“The boss’ll have you come out when he thinks you’ll be useful again, Daryl,” the voice was a deep, scratchy one that sounded as if it belonged to a male. 

A frown fell upon your lips as you heard the name echoing down the hallway. Daryl was a rather common name, but was it just a coincidence, or was it  _ your _ Daryl. The Daryl that was at the lineup with you the night when your father was killed. How had you not figured out that he was there sooner? 

The heavy door at the end of the hall began to squeak as it was shut and locked. There were two voices that spoke to one another very faintly before the voices, as well as the footsteps, disappeared,  _ Easy Street _ flooding the halls once again. You let out a huff of relief before you grabbed the doorknob and slowly twisted it again, a bit more confident than before. You stood up and opened the door, trying to make sure that it didn’t creak. After you left the room, you decided to close the door, doing it bit by bit until it clicked shut. It made a small noise, but nothing that wasn’t able to be drowned out by the torture that you faced for four days straight. 

Turning down the hallway, you rushed quietly down to the very last door on the right. You stopped in front of it. In that location, the song was louder and even more tortuous. You pressed your hands against the door and pressed your ear against it. You heard nothing. You knocked quietly on the door. “Daryl?” You whispered. 

There was no response for a while before the familiar, deep, scruffy voice filled your ears. “(Y/N)?” He questioned. Shuffling was heard inside the room and you could only assume that Daryl moved closer to the door. “What’re you doing ‘ere?” His voice was louder that time. 

You could feel the tears of happiness well in the corner of your eyes. You sniffled and leaned against the door. “Oh my God,” you whispered. “Oh my God, I thought you died. I thought we lost you.”

“I’m alive. Barely.” 

“Did they hurt you? What have they done to you?” 

“It dun’ matter. Why’re you ‘ere?” 

You hesitated and bit your lip before you closed your eyes. “He took me. Negan came to Alexandria, took almost half of our stuff, and...when he was going to take the medicine, Carl got in the way. He got mad and held a gun to this fatass’ head. Negan didn’t like that and...he took me away. He put me in the cell a little ways down the hallway.” 

“Did he touch ya?” 

“No!” You exclaimed quietly. “He never laid a hand on me. He only threatened me. That’s it.” 

“How long have you been ‘ere?” 

“About four days.” There was silence between the two of you. After a while, you raised your brows and turned back towards the door. “You have to come with me.” 

“What?” 

“I can break you out,” you reached down for the handle. “We can get out together and go back home and-” when you turned the handle, it stopped halfway. You frowned and looked down and jiggled the doorknob. Glancing directly below the doorknob, you saw a keyhole and frowned. “I-I can’t unlock it. I don’t have a key. I’ll go find it!” 

“No, (Y/N),” Daryl began. 

You turned around, though, and went to make your way up the stairs, only to be met with a rock hard chest. You backed up and stared up at the face of a Savior. Your eyes widened. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? How did you get out?” His voice was dark, deep, and gruff. He crossed his strong arms in front of his broad chest. 

You paled and began to trip over your own words. “I-I, um, ugh…” 

The man chuckled and lowered his arms. “Let’s see what Negan has to say about this.” He told you before he reached down and grabbed you by your hair, tangling the strands into his thick, sausage-like fingers. He pulled, causing a sharp pain to soar through your scalp. You let out a cry as he began to drag you up the stairs. 

Pounding came from behind you as well as shouts of your name. Daryl was calling out for you but he could do nothing about it. He couldn’t break out of the cell and save you no matter how hard he hit the metal door. He owed you that much, at least. It was all to no avail, though. As the man dragged you deeper and deeper into the Sanctuary, the desperate noises coming from your friend fading into the background before it transformed into silence. 

Your hands were wrapped around his wrist as you tried to push his hand away and kick at his ankles, but he continued to drag you through the winding, confusing halls. Looking around at your surroundings, you knew that there was no way you would have been able to escape from the complex halls. You would have ended up getting lost and running into one of the saviors. Either way, stumbling through the halls, fingers wrapped around a man’s wrists as you tried to escape his grasp, was a likely scenario no matter how stealthy you were with your rough plan. You should have just stayed in your cell. 

It didn’t take long before you were taken to a rather active part of the Sanctuary. From room to room you heard conversations. Some of them were tactical and serious and others were playful and casual. Your head continued to throb as the man pulled on your hair, dragging you through the halls and up a two flights of stairs. Tears were running down your face from the stinging pain in your head. 

“Let me go! Please let me go!” You cried out as you tried to pull yourself away from the man, but it only resulted in more pain as he yanked your body closer to his. 

“Keep your goddamn mouth shut, kid.” He growled. 

A couple of flights of stairs later, you went down another hallway, still being dragged by your hair, the pain nonstop and a headache slowly beginning to develop. The third door on the left was the one that was knocked on. There were a couple of voices coming from inside, but once the massive man knocked on the door, the voices stopped and a deep, familiar voice filled your eardrums. 

“Come on in,” it was Negan. 

Your eyes widened once the man opened the door and dragged you easily inside, throwing you onto the ground, closing the door behind him. You reached up and grabbed your head, rubbing it gently to try and ease the pain that was soaring through your scalp. A deep chuckle came from in front of you. Glancing up, you could see Negan sitting in one of the many chairs that surrounded a metal, oblong table. Negan’s feet were on the table and Lucille was at his side. In the rest of the room, there were multiple Saviors who sat at the table, Simon sitting at the other end of the table, directly across from Negan. The group of men turned and looked at you and as well as the other Savior. 

“Well, well, well,” he hummed and removed his feet from the table and moved the chair back in order to stand up. He swung Lucille over his shoulder as he stalked closer to you. “What the fucking fuck do we have fucking here?” 

“I found her out of her cell and talking to the redneck bastard.” The man said. “She said she was going to go get the key to get him out.” 

“You would have never fucking found that key, ya’know?” You said nothing in response to him. “How the fuck did you fucking get out of your fucking cell, huh?” 

“Um…” you swallowed the lump that was in your throat. “W-When s-s-someone-” 

“Quit fucking stuttering.” He said with a deep, dominant voice. 

Again, you swallowed, trying to steady your tone of voice so that you didn’t get him angrier than he was starting to become. 

“When someone came into my cell to get the tray from lunch, they left the door unlocked. I decided to...try and get out.” 

Negan raised his brows. “So you didn’t fucking escape. You opened the fucking door because some worthless fucker left the goddamn thing open.” 

You nodded slowly. 

Negan raised his brows and glanced at the man who had brought you into the room. “I want you to find out who the fuck was the last one inside of her cell,” he said, gesturing to him with Lucille. He then glanced back at you. “You didn’t, by any fucking chance, get a good look at the ignorant fucker that left the door open, did you?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you began. “I was blinded by the light.” 

“Well, what the fuck ever. We’ll get the son of a bitch.” He turned towards the man. “Go fucking get him.” 

“Yes, boss.” He said as he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

Negan licked his bottom lip as he turned his gaze at you. He gestured up with his bat. “Get up.” 

You pressed your hands against the concrete floor and pushed yourself up until you were standing in front of him. 

Negan licked his teeth, smirking, leaning to the side. “I want you to go ahead and say you’re sorry.” He said. 

You looked down at the ground, folding your hands in front of one another. “Sorry,” your voice was timid and rather quiet. 

Negan shook his head. “No. That was fucking pathetic.” Negan’s voice was a deep, dark whisper that made shivers run down your spine. “I want you to  _ really _ apologize.” 

“I’m sorry for leaving the room, Negan.” 

“There you go. That’s fucking like it. Now, what are we supposed to fucking do with you? I can’t put you back in your goddamn cell, unchained at least. How about I leave you with my wives? I don’t feel like fucking them right now anyway.” 

You grimaced at the words he spoke about chaining you up as well as his wives. He was a disgusting man and you would do anything to get away from him. The wives didn’t sound so bad, after all. 

Negan glanced at one of the men that were surrounding the table and gestured for him to get up. He stood up and walked over to you. He grabbed your wrist tightly and pulled you close to him. 

“Take it fucking easy, asshole.” Negan told the man and his grip on your wrist loosened slightly. “Go ahead and take her to Sherry and tell her what fucking happened. Make sure she doesn’t fucking take her out of her fucking sight.” 

“Will do,” he said. 

Before he got a chance to turn and leave, Negan pointed a gloved finger at you. “Don’t fucking test me, kid. Because I have been nice so far. You won’t like me when I’m not fucking nice. You saw what I did to your old man.” 

You narrowed your eyes and clenched your jaw as the man dragged you out of the room, closing the door behind him. Once you were out, you were able to keep up the pace right behind him. He wasn’t as violent as the man before. You were thankful for that. You went down the stairs, only one flight, before going down the hallway. You looked around and could recall the area that you were entering. You were near the area where the wives were. You walked directly behind the man until he brought you to the room filled with women wearing fitted black dresses that went down to their knees and heels to match. 

“Sherry,” the man called out, getting the women’s attention. They turned their heads to look at him. 

Sherry emerged from the group of women, stepping forward. She furrowed her brows. “What’s going on? It’s not time for-” 

“This one escaped from her cell,” he said and practically threw you at the wife. 

Sherry raised her brows and caught you, placing her hands gently on your sides and bringing you closer to her. 

“Negan said for you to look after her. I don’t know what he plans on doing, but he doesn’t trust be with being alone.” He told her before he simply left the room, not looking back. 

Sherry glanced down at you as you stood up straight and looked down at the ground. “Are you alright, (Y/N)?” She asked. ‘Did they hurt you?” 

“A bit? Negan didn’t, but this asshole pulled my hair.” You said, reaching up and rubbing the back of your head for emphasis. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “What were you thinking escaping from your cell?” 

“A guy left the door unlocked. I couldn’t...I couldn’t just stay in there. I have to get home. I have to see my family. I have to see Carl. I have to get Daryl out, too.” 

“Sweetheart, you weren’t going to get out. This place is huge and confusing. It took us weeks to remember where everything was.” 

You glanced up at Sherry and then looked back down at the ground and nodded your head in understanding. “I know,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I just...I have to leave, Sherry. I have to go home. It’s been four days.” 

“I know, (Y/N).” Sherry moved you over to the couch and sat you down. She slowly sat next to you. Sherry reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry that Negan has done this to you. He’s an asshole. He really is. I wish that there was something that we could do to get you out of here, but we have to look out for each other. We don’t want Negan to do anything to us or to the people that we love. Do you understand?” 

“I don’t expect you to do anything to help me out. I understand that you have to do what he says.” 

“And  _ you _ have to listen to him too if you know what is best for you. He won’t do anything to hurt you if you just do as he tells you.” 

You raised your brows and your shoulders slumped as you glanced down at the ground. 

“Because, right now, that’s the only thing that can guarantee that you get back to your boyfriend safely.” 

“But  _ when _ am I going to go back with him?” 

Sherry opened her mouth as if to say something, but she closed it just as quickly as she opened it. She looked into your eyes and you looked into hers. Sherry shook her head after a couple minutes of silence. By then, the wives had gone back to what they had been doing, glancing at you and Sherry every now and then. 

“I don’t know, (Y/N). But I know that you’ll be able to go back home to him, eventually.” Sherry told you with a soothing tone as she reached up and ran her fingers through your hair. “Don’t worry.” 

It was hard not to worry, though. Four consecutive days without sunlight or even a glance at the outside world could make an individual go stir crazy. It made the want to go home stronger than ever before, even if you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt tears slowly appear in your eyes. You looked up at Sherry. 

“I miss him, Sherry,” you said with a small, timid voice. 

Sherry sighed and reached up and wiped the tears away from your cheeks. “I know, (Y/N), I know.” She opened her arms, welcoming you into a hug. You nodded and wrapped your arms around her loosely. 

Ever since you arrived, you could tell that Sherry was completely against whatever Negan did. You could tell it from the way that her tone of voice was the first time you met and you could tell by the way she trash talked him whenever she could around you. In a way, Sherry was the one person that was keeping you sane through your entire time at the Sanctuary. For that, you were thankful and you hoped that she made it through this mess of a world. She was a wonderful person. She was the only Savior that you could trust. So she could be the only one to ask the next question. 

“So what do I do to get out of here?” You whispered. 

Sherry glanced at you and raised her brows. She shook her head. “Like I said; just do what he says. He will treat you a lot better and then, hopefully, you will be able to go home soon. I’ll have a talk with him, but I’m not entirely sure he will listen to me.” You let out a small sigh and your shoulders slumped as you looked down at your feet. Sherry wrapped her arm around your shoulders and brought you close so that you could lay your head on her shoulder. “All you have to do is wait. You will get to go home eventually.” 

_ Eventually _ . That term could mean many different amounts of time. It could mean tomorrow, it could mean two weeks, it could mean two months. Hell, it could even mean more than a year. You could even stay at the Sanctuary forever. You didn’t know. Waiting wasn’t the only thing you needed to do. You also needed to have hope. You needed to have the hope that you would be able to escape some day. Either that or the hope that Carl would break in, come get you, and save you as if the two of you were in one of those cliche fairy tales. No matter how you were saved or how you escaped, you  _ would _ see your boyfriend again. You  _ would _ see your family again. You  _ would _ see your mother again. All you had to do was wait. 


End file.
